Royals
by peanutj
Summary: Meet Charlie; a 16 year old cynical, sarcastic klutz. Being a twin easy for the most part. But when your twin turns out to be the master of a killing machine/lizard, it makes being a twin a bit more complicated. How will she deal with being caught in between the two worlds? Who will she choose to protect in the end; her friends or her own blood?
1. Omega

**HI! My name is Kris and this is my fist time writing a Teen Wolf story. Usually I write one shots because continuity and I aren't good friends. But anyways, this story takes place in season two and I plan to sorta write Charlie's back story as the story progresses. So, if you guys could leave a review that'd be great, but remember this is my first time writing a Teen Wolf story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own shit.**

* * *

_Beep! Beep! Beep! Bee-_

Ugh.

Alarm clocks will be the bane of my existence. People who actually wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated are a close second. Seriously, who invented alarm clocks? It doesn't even matter because I'm the one who keeps resetting it to go off every morning.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

"Charlie, wake up! I know you're in there!" My twin, Matt, oh so rudely yelled. Jesus, man it's only 7 in the morning and you've already set the record for annoying me for the day. Especially on a Monday. Which comes in third for the bane of my existence.

Groaning, I rolled over to see that someone took it upon themselves to leave my curtains open, effectively making the sun shine directly in my face. My guess was Stiles or maybe it was Isaac. Neither of them made a habit of using the door. Pricks.

My bedroom door suddenly slammed open to reveal my half-dressed brother holding a bottle of Listerine a smug look on his face. Oh, wait. That's just his face. "Would it kill you to put on some pants?" I grumbled, rubbing my eyes only to be faced with plaid boxers.

"Here ya go, morning breath," he quipped, handing me the bottle. I accepted it grudgingly and momentarily contemplated tossing the liquid in his eyes. "You got 20 minutes or else you're stuck catching the bus. Oh! And did you hear about that Lydia girl? She ran off from the hospital last night. Naked and all," he added on, finally leaving my room.

It was my intention to tell him that I already knew that, but I only managed to croak. "Ugh," I moaned, stretching and letting out a yawn. I'm sure I wouldn't be this tired if it wasn't for Stiles dragging me out to help look for Lydia last night anyways. Groggily, I sat up and searched for my phone only to find it on the ground by my closet.

So close, yet so far.

Glancing back at my clock, I laid back down and snuggled the bottle of mouthwash to my chest. With a sigh, I shut my eyes and drifted back to sleep.

God, I'm so lonely.

_"Yes, Nick Jonas, I will marry you," I grinned, leaning in to kiss my husband-to-be. _

_SLAM_

"Shit!" I yelled with a start. I sat up straight in bed and whipped my head toward the clock which read 8:47. "Shit, shit, shit," I mumbled as I scrambled out of bed, accidently taking my comforter with me.

After showering in record time, I threw on black skinny jeans and an Americano shirt. Throwing on my Converse's, I backtracked and grabbed the bottle of Listerine before grabbing my book bag. There wasn't any point in checking to see if Matt had waited up for me and my dad was gone. Hence the obnoxious slamming of the door interrupting my wonderful wonderful dream.

Ugh, screw Nick Jonas and his (literally) dreamy self.

I grabbed my keys to shut and lock the door behind and began my commute to school. It was going to be another 15 minutes until I got there. Besides, it was already 9 in the morning. Eh, what's the point in rushing now? I fished my headphones out of my bag and plugged one end into my phone and the other in my ear. Walking to the beat of the music, I decided to check my text messages considering the neglect I'd been giving my phone all morning.

_Good morning sunshine! The earth says hello._

Stiles, you idiot.

_Crap, I meant star shine. Whatever. _

_WAKE UP!_

Great, now I have another alarm clock in the form of an ADHD dork.

_Are you coming to class?_

_Oh, yeah I left your curtain open when I left last night._

_Please say yes. Harris is being worse than normal today._

Gee thanks, Isaac. You just single handedly gave me a reason to skip school entirely.

I pocketed my phone and head phones and swiftly went up the school stairs. Not bothering to stop by my locker, I headed straight to Harris' room.

Now trust me when I tell you that knocking before entering truly makes a difference. Granted, you'll still have 22 pair of eyes staring at you. But at least they're staring because you're late, instead of sweating and interrupting a lecture.

Screw that, they should be grateful I'm interrupting this snooze-fest.

"Miss Daehler," Harris announced, getting those select few who hadn't been paying attention. Welp, now there are 25 pairs of eyes staring at me. "So nice of you to join us," he deadpanned.

Look, man. Seeing your face isn't exactly the highlight of my day either.

"I'm sorry."

I'm not sorry.

"My ala-"

"I'm sure you've had more than enough time to come up with an excuse as to why you're late, but it doesn't matter. Detention, 3 o'clock. Don't be late," he droned, turning his back toward the board.

"But…I woke up an hour late so my whole schedule's off so my entire day is thrown off so I can't make it," I quipped. I managed to pull a few chuckles with my comment.

"Then you won't mind getting out at five instead of four, now sit."

"Dammit," I mumbled under my breath. With a defeated look on my face, I took a seat over next to Isaac who was smirking at me. "This is your fault," I whispered, stealing his notes so I could copy the missed information.

"How?" He frowned.

"You left my curtain open which lead to a series of events that made me late and therefore landed me in detention." Isaac scoffed playfully and turned his attention back to the board. He was wearing that same smug look on his face as he did when we were younger. He and Matt used to trade cards like it was going out of style. Yu-Gi-Oh, Pokémon you name it and they were trading. Personally, I never saw the point because they made better toothpicks than cards. But if Isaac insisted on sneaking out the window, he could at least use Matt's window instead of mine. "I'm serious, Lahey. You better start digging your own grave tonight. There's just too many witnesses around for me to kill you."

"I'll be sure to mention you in my obituary," he quipped, rolling his eyes slightly.

I chuckled once before noticing the shiner on his face. On instinct, I reached up to touch his black eye before he flinched away. Isaac glanced around to see if anyone had noticed before looking straight ahead.

"Dude, what happened?" I asked, turning in my seat to face him completely.

_Psst._

He paused for a moment, licking his lips. "Uh, lacrosse practice."

_Psst._

I tilted my head in confusion before eyeing him slightly. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you guys wear face masks?"

"Charlie!" Scott whispered-yelled. I threw up my index finger behind me without bothering to look back.

"And you also used that excuse for the cut on your face last week and the week before that it was another black eye…" I pointed out in a low voice. "I don't think the game is all that violent of you guys are cover in gear-"

Isaac ducked his head quickly before meeting my same tone of voice. "Look, the last time I checked you can't even name the positions on the team let alone mine. So, how would you even know?" He snapped, turning his attention back to the board. I scoffed softly before turning my legs back under the table and toward the front of the class.

Trying to make out Isaac's messy handwriting, I felt something hit my shoulder and then another something hit my back. Frowning, I turned around to see to paper balls on the ground and Stiles leaning toward me and Scott sending me a pointed look. "What?"

"Why were you late?" Stiles asked, twirling his pencil.

"Gee, I don't know maybe because I was out helping look for another body."

"Yeah, but this one's warm."

"Not for long."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked worriedly.

"The temperature's supposed to drop pretty low tonight," I said, turning back to my notes. Stiles visibly slackened in his seat and I instantly felt bad. "But don't werewolves have like a super-hot temperature all the time anyways?"

According to the Twilight series anyways.

"Miss Daehler, if you would please clear your desk for the quiz? Or is that too much work for you?" Harris quipped. I raised an eyebrow as I glanced around the class to see everyone had indeed clear desks. "Right," I chuckled nervously. No need to land myself more detention. But then again, Harris was kinda hot…

* * *

Harris is totally not hot.

He had confiscated Stiles and I third paper football and now we were here for an extra half hour. I mean, what does he expect us to do with this extra free time? If he thinks Chemistry then he has another thing coming. With another loud sigh, I tapped my fingers on the table. I sent Stiles a wave, who was seated by the windows while I was moved by the door. He returned it halfheartedly and a small smile.

Man, this Lydia-gone-missing-in-the-woods-while-naked was really getting to him. None of it was really his fault. I blame Zombie Peter.

"What is it, Miss Daehler?" Harris droned from his never-ending stack of ungraded papers.

"The separation anxiety, sir. It's killing me." Being the overdramatic person I am, I buried my head in folded arms and it turns out its damn pretty comfortable.

_I know pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride…_

"Miss Daehler, could you please refrain from sleeping in my classroom ever again or you'll have detention for the rest of the month," he droned, successfully interrupting my flawless dream. "Now leave."

Ugh, like he could handle me in detention for the rest of the month.

I met Stiles outside in the parking lot who was pacing impatiently whilst talking on the phone in a rushed manner. I threw my stuff in the back without waiting for him to agree to take me home.

There's a season of Supernatural and a bag of Twizzlers waiting for me at home.

He hopped in the driver's side and began dialing someone on the phone. "Who ya calling?" I asked. Stiles jumped with a start and eyed me and quickly turned to examine the area surrounding him. "Where'd you come from?"

I knitted my eyebrows together. "The same place you just came from."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," he concluded, pocketing his phone and cranking up his Jeep. "Scott's already at the funeral and they're still waiting on 'the others' to arrive."

"Thanks for the 4-1-1, but I don't see what that has to do with me, Supernatural, and Twizzlers."

Now it was his turn to knit his eyebrows together. "What're you talking about? We gotta go to Allison's crazy aunt's funeral to-"

"_We_ don't have to anything. _I'm_ going home," I protested, which was proving to be futile as Stiles continued on his merry way to the gravesite.

"Look, I'm glad you have a firm grasp on pronouns, but-"

"No."

"Please?" He whined.

Oh, god I wish Derek were to knock the whining out of him.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Please," he sang, his voice growing more and more shrill.

"No."

"Puh-lease."

"Fine," I stressed, giving in. In turn, Stiles did an awful victory dance and slightly swerved off the road as he did so. "You know, you should really consider getting your seats cleaned. Derek's blood is still dried up on it."

"Oh, gross. I told him not to do that," he whined.

Ugh, this kid.

After more whining, arguing about where to park, and trekking 10 minutes through forestry to get to the site we finally saw a small crowd. We spotted Scott crouching behind a headstone and peering at Allison. I felt a ping of guilt as I watched her and get family pushed through the myriad of reporters and cameras. As I was scanning the crowd, I saw a familiar camera.

Is that...

Matt!

"Oh my god, there's Matt!" I exclaimed, getting ready to stand up and wave only to be pulled down by Scott.

"Jesus, Char are you trying to get us caught?" Scott scolded.

"Says the werewolf dating a werewolf hunter," I quipped under my breath. Scott turned his head to glare at me. Meanwhile, I rolled my eyes before pulling out my phone.

_I see you._

Ha. That old guy broke your memory card.

Matt looked dejected before texting me back with a smirk on his face.

Jokes on you. You're the one who bought it.

...So what.

I was brought out of my brooding when I realized I was completely and utterly alone. The large shadow that was casted on the headstone was the only sign I needed to know we were in deep shit. I bet it was Scott who got us caught. He was never the stealthiest kid, even now as a werewolf he still wasn't.

"Now Charlotte, what's your excuse?" Sheriff Stilinski asked as he held Scott and Stiles at his flanks, the latter holding a tie in his hands.

I glanced at them both before pursing my lips. "Well...-"

"Charlie!" Matt exclaimed, jogging over. He set me a sly wink before everyone snapped his head toward him.

That sneaky bastard.

"Dad wants us home ASAP," he began. He held his phone up for emphasis as he sent Sheriff Stilinski an apologetic look. "Something about a hot water pipe busting and we gotta move all of our stuff before it gets ruined."

I raised an eyebrow and held my mouth open like a fish. "Yeah, okay."

Sheriff Stilinski eyed us, clearly unconvinced. "Get outta here," he finally said before dragging away the other two.

"You're a genius, you know that?" I said knowingly as we began to walk back toward Stiles' jeep. Matt shrugged one of his shoulders. "I try. I'm outta here though. That old guy is giving me the creeps." We turned our head back in perfect synchronization as we openly stared at the Argents.

I frowned before shuddering myself as I caught the older man's eye. "I have a hunch about him."

"Agreed," Matt said. "Chinese tonight?"

"Nah, that stuff gives me gas."

"Ew, pizza it is."

"See ya at home, twin," I said before turning on my foot and entering the woods again. At this point, I just wanted to go home and sleep so I can be dragged out back out here to look for Lydia again tonight. Resistance was pretty much futile with Stiles and if my shit wasn't in his car, then I would've bummed a ride from Matt, but yet here I am. Trekking through the woods. Again.

"4-1-5 Adam, route 5 and post."

What the hell?

I was rudely (and literally) pulled out of my pouting when Stiles gripped my upper arm as he and Scott guided me through the woods effectively making me pick up my pace. "I'm so confused." Like more confused than an average day in Chemistry. Seriously, that shit is confusing. Not only does it have numbers, letters, negatives, and positives; but if you mix up any of the listed above; you dead, bro.

"Something hit an ambulance on the way to the hospital with a DOA victim," Stiles explained as we arrived at the jeep. I scooted in between Scott and Stiles and frowned. "And you think it's Lydia?"

"We know it's Lydia," Scott corrected.

"It could be something else?"

"Like what?"

I smirked before answering. "A mountain lion." My reaction was perfectly in sync eye rolls. "Screw you guys I'm hilarious."

* * *

"What the hell is Lydia doing?" Stiles asked, his voice laced with worry.

"I don't know," Scott answered in a low voice.

"I know she's eating better than me," I huffed to myself. Stiles tore his eyes away from the scene with worry etched on his face. "What kept you from doing that? Allison?"

"I hope so."

I squinted in the dark trying to get a better view on the gruesome scene far from me. Guess who forgot to put their contacts in today? Hint: it's me. "I don't think it's her," I said interrupting their conversation.

"Why?" Scott asked.

"Well, if the bloodlust is really as bad as you say it was whenever you wolf out, then wouldn't be ten times worse for a girl? I mean, clearly who, er, _whatever_ is doing this knows what they're doing." I explained, turning back to the scene once again.

"I guess that makes sense, "Stiles said after a moment. "Just…find her, Scott. Please," he added softly. I sent him an apologetic smile.

Scott nodded, determined. "I will, but what do we do now?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but was cut off by a flashlight beam. "Shit," Stiles hissed. I didn't even have the chance to blink before Scott disappeared.

Screw what I said, that kid is stealthy.

I glanced up and quickly made the decision to scale and climb a tree that was near the edge of the woods. At about 10 feet up, I settled into the branches and listened to the sheriff as he caught only Stiles.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sheriff Stilinksi exclaimed once Stiles finally reached him.

Stiles nervously shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged sheepishly. "Not spying on the crime scene if that's what you're thinking."

Oh, geez.

I rolled my eyes as I shifted my position on a branch considering I might be there a while depending on how long it takes Stiles to come up with a decent lie.

I should just set up camp at this point. I would totally win the Hunger Games.

After a few moments of sitting there and listening to another lecture, I heard shuffling coming from the ground. I quickly sat up and poked my head around to find the source of the sound, but was met with nothing but darkness.

Awesome, now I'm hearing things.

Leaning back, something caught my eye. And it had eight legs.

"Oh, god," I whispered-yelled, while attempting to quickly stand myself up. Unfortunately, I lost my footing and was now hanging from my hands on the branch I was residing on.

Scratch what I said about the Hunger Games. That monstrous spider would totally win.

"Lydia?" Stiles called out.

Oh! The shuffling was her. Thank god because I am so done with anything that has more than two legs.

I saw her walking toward the flashing red and blue lights as Stiles continued to call out her name. Meanwhile, I'm swinging 10 feet in the fucking air with no recognition.

"Well, isn't anyone going to offer me a coat?" Lydia called out. Without speaking a beat, Stiles attempted (and I use that word loosely) to take his dad's coat, but failed and was meet with a face full of dirt.

Welp, that's enough for me tonight.

With a huff, I swing my legs up so I scale the tree again and hoist myself back up. Too bad Spidey decided to make another entrance. Body, meet ground. Ground, body.

Shit, that's gonna bruise.

* * *

**Abuse the review box, please?**


	2. Shape-Shifted

**Hey, guys! So, it was my intention to upload this earlier, but I got sidetracked like 20 times. But no fear, 'cause it's here c: Thank you all for the reviews, follows, and favorites and hopefully I won't disappoint any of you guys!**

**And as for romance for this story, you'll just have to wait and see ;)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own shit. Except Charlie.**

* * *

I was in the middle of an intense game of Angry Birds on the bench while watching the lacrosse practice. And by watching, I mean taking up space. Not very much space considering I had to wedge myself between Stiles and Matt who were thoroughly irritated when I couldn't make myself comfortable.

"Why's Scott playing goal, he hates playing goal?"

"I have a plan, just trust me," Stiles answered simply.

I scoffed and looked back at my losing game. "The last time you said that, I ended up on the floor with a bruised butt."

"I said to hold on!"

"Mhm, sure," I mumbled distractedly. The kid has forever and always had butterfingers. Speaking of Butterfingers, I really want one now. Thanks, Stiles.

"Woo, go Scott," I cheered halfheartedly. You'd be surprised how distracting Angry Birds is. Especially when you're somewhere you're not supposed to be in the first place. Every now and again I would hear the shutter of Matt's camera signaling him taking a picture.

"Daehler!" Coach Finstock yelled.

"Yeah?" Matt and I called out at the same time. I pulled my eyes away from my screen to glare at my twin who was doing the same. We were never the ones for that cutesy twin shit. But ironically, we were both rocking leather jackets today.

"Not you," Coach said, eyeing Matt. "You. What're you doing here?"

Normally I would panic because I'd just been caught, but I've prepared for this moment for a while now.

"I'm writing an article for the school paper," I grinned, pulling out my notebook covered in school stickers. "It's about the wins the lacrosse team has been racking up. I'm here to get the inside scoop about how you do what you do," I summed up. "Care to hear a snippet?" Without waiting for an answer, I stood up and began pacing in front of the bleachers. "Coach Finstock has a true passion for coaching that you can truly see on and off the field. Between the classroom and the field, he never stops and it just makes you wonder if he's a miracle worker or simply a godsend." I glanced up to see I had caught the attention of the benchwarmers and a few on the field.

"His true admiration for coaching shines through the second those Friday night lights hit the field and doesn't quit even for practices where his tough love and genuine-"

"Okay, okay. I got it," Coach Finstock blurted, straightening his jacket with a smirk and turning his attention back to the players. With a shrill blow to the whistle, he yelled out. "What are you ladies waiting for? Line up! McCall, get in the goal!"

And that's how you do it.

Sitting back on the bleachers, Stiles gave me a fist bump while mouthing the word nice as he ran out to the field. I felt someone staring at me and looked at Matt who looked absolutely gob smacked. "I knew we're related somehow."

I scoffed and turned back to my game of Angry Birds. "Please, I taught you everything you know." I felt him glare at me before leaving to line up on the field with the rest of players.

"Ugh, screw Angry Birds," I groaned as I tossed my phone next to me which made a loud clank. Matt's camera caught my eye and I instantly decided to snoop through his pictures. The kid is a pretty decent photographer. Plus, it makes sense since he's a quiet, private guy. You know, with living behind a lens and all that. I shuffled through a few and ooh'ed and ahh'ed whenever I saw a particular awesome picture. Granted, it was usually a picture of me, but who's really paying attention? I scanned through a few more pictures and paused to examine one that looked awfully familiar…

Me. A Listerine bottle. And a whole lot of cuddling.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I mumbled under my breath. I hopped up and quickly found my brother's number. "Daehler! Seriously?" I yelled. He turned his head and sheepishly shrugged his shoulders with that stupid smirk on his face that I could make out through his face mask. Apparently there was something about to go down between Scott and Isaac, but the Sheriff and a couple of other officers had shown up and were now interrupting the practice.

Damn, I'd pay to see that fight.

Stuffing my notebook into my bag, I abandoned the bench and walked over to where Scott and Stiles were talking amongst themselves.

"It's him," Scott said simply once I walked up to them.

My eye caught something on the edge of the woods. Something pale, leather, and brooding.

Omg, Derek you're such a creep.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked once Scott's voice brought me back to earth.

"I can _smell_ it on him," Scott stressed.

"Is that why you guys almost went all Mortal Kombat on each other?" Scott nodded once more.

"His father's dead," Scott said distractedly. "They think he was murdered."

"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Stiles asked. Geez, I'd be lying if I said his dad didn't give me the creeps, but the _last _thing I though I'd hear was that he was murdered by his own son.

"I'm not sure. Why?" Scott asked.

"Because they can lock him in a holding cell for 24 hours."

"What, like overnight?" Scott asked.

Stiles nodded and confirmed. "During the full moon."

"Are any of those holding cells any good at holding people?"

"People? Good. Werewolves? Probably not that good."

"Probably," I repeated with a from etched on my face.

"Guys, remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?"

"Yeah?"

"He does."

"Ugh," Stiles groaned as he saw Matt making his way over to the trio.

"Be nice," I scolded dryly. Stiles was never particularly fond of Matt. Why? I have no idea.

Scott and Stiles walked away while Matt jogged over. "Any idea what that was all about?" He asked as he jerked his head toward the retreating officers with Isaac in tow. I shrugged my shoulders to play the role of the clueless bystander. "Maybe he robbed a store."

"Maybe it has something to do with his dad."

"What about his dad?"

"He didn't tell you? His dad-"

"Daehler!"

Fucking Coach Finstock.

"Yeah, yeah. Stop distracting your players, I got it. Save the lecture, Coach," I grumbled as I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed back toward the school.

* * *

Eventually I got my Supernatural and Twizzlers time. I'd like to take this time to thank Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski and their ridiculous, undying ambition to stick their noses in everybody's business. Long story short, Stiles took the fall for detention for Scott and himself and I wasn't dragged out for an after-school adventure in the woods. It's officially Destiel time and nothing hurts. It'd be such a shame if it were cut short.

"_Oh my god_!"

I swear Matt and I have that creepy twin telepathy shit.

I grabbed the crossbar wrench that I kept hidden under the couch. If he wasn't screaming bloody murder, then I wouldn't bothered breaking out weapons, but duty calls. Anyways, I ran up the stairs to see what all the commotion was about and headed straight to Matt's room to find him staring at one of his lens.

"What is it? Who died?"

"My lens, he scratched it making his stupid sex tape." I dropped my stance and furrowed my eyebrows together.

"Start over." Matt huffed before explaining that he lent Jackson a camera. "He insisted on having one that recorded in _'low lighting_", he mocked, rolling his eyes. Aw, the poor kid couldn't catch a break. First, the creepy old man (said man is now out creepy, old principal) snaps his memory card and now this.

I snorted at his poor impression of Jackson and sat on his bed. "Dude, his parents have a ton of money, just make him pay it back." Matt examined his camera silently before looking up. "Can you?"

"I can't even stand to be in the same room as him because I'm afraid I'm gonna die from the amount of hair spray the boy uses, okay?" I ranted. "I mean, I'm 90% sure he's the reason for the hole in the ozone layer."

"Ugh, come on, sis. You're a girl and you have...you know," he trailed off as he pointed to where he would have boobs.

"You can't be serious?" He walked over and took a seat next to me before wrapping one arm around me and shaking me. "Please," he whined.

With a record breaking eye roll, I gave in. "Fine, fine. What's on this thing anyway?" I asked while getting up to grab the camera. Matt was over to it with two long steps and a flushed face.

The fuck?

"I promised I wouldn't show anyone. The lighting is too dark to see anything. Plus there's nothing on here, I already erased it," he babbled quickly.

I lifted an eyebrow. "That's a lotta reasons."

"Just trust me."

I eyed him, the camera, and him again. I picked up my cross bar and attempted to be threatening. Which was particularly difficult in a Power Rangers shirt and track shorts. "Okay, but you owe me for this Jackass thing," I added as I walked out of his room and to mine to put away ole crossy.

"You're the best!"

"Tell me something I don't know, br-Jesus, Stiles you're the reason we got a doorbell. _Use_ it!" I yelled, instantly taking my ready-to-attack stance that I learned from Scott.

Seriously, I didn't shock myself for fun when I installed that doorbell. And yet, here's Stiles, biting his knuckles to keep himself from laughing. "Shut it, Stilinski," I scolded, standing straighter.

"I'm sorry, Char."

According to that smirk, he's definitely not sorry.

"It's just you looked really ridiculous," he said in between giggles. Yes, giggle. And I can't wait to tell Lydia that her impending (but not really) husband-to-be giggles.

But even I had to admit it was kinda cute and was biting back a smile.

"Would you two hurry up?" A voice impatiently asked from my window.

I scoffed. "Oh, hey Miguel, I'm shocked to see you here," I sarcastically said, tossing crossy into my closet. I frowned when I looked back over at Derek. "What are you standing on?"

"We don't have time for any more questions. _Let's go_," he's stressed with an eye roll. Aw, he loves us.

Over my shorts, I slipped on the pair of jeans I was wearing earlier. Because let's be honest: jeans aren't dirty until you wear them twice. I slipped on a pair of black Converse's and slipped my phone into my pocket.

"Such a sourwolf," Stiles mumbled as I tugged on a hoodie.

"Let's. Go. Or they're gonna kill him," Derek grumbled through gritted teeth. He glanced down and let go of my window sill and I heard a soft thump.

Geez, okay Criss Angel.

I looked at Stiles expectantly to tell me what the hell was going on. "Isaac." Was all he said before I, myself, scrambled out of my window. I scaled the tree until I jumped off when I got to the lowest branch. I watched Stiles do the same as he had half a Twizzler in his mouth.

"Mine." I declared, snatching the rest from his mouth and sticking it in mine.

"Took you two long enough, Derek complained as we approached the jeep. "Shotgun," he added.

That's right ladies and gents. Derek Hale insists on riding shotgun. It may or may not have something to do with the teeny, tiny scratch on Derek's car that I may or may not have accidentally put there.

"Sure, ladies always ride in the front anyways," I quipped.

* * *

"Okay, the keys of every cell are in a password protected lock-box in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk, Stiles explained as I poked my head between them to peer through the windshield.

"I'll distract her," Derek said, making a move to open his door. Stiles grabbed his jacket. "Whoa, you? You can't go in there," he claimed.

Derek eyed him viciously, his hand, and then back to him.

It only took a second for the boy to process.

"I'm taking my hand off," he said, his tone noticeably lighter.

"I was exonerated," Derek defended.

"You're still a person of interest."

"An innocent person."

"An innocent person my ass," I scoffed at the same time Stiles laughed, "Innocent? You?"

Derek simply shrugged. Damn, I thought that would at least get an eye roll or even a glare.

"Okay, fine. What's your plan?"

"To distract her."

No shit, Sherlock.

"Uh huh, how? By punching her in the face?"

"That could work," I piped up. Derek gave an unamused, short laugh.

Hey! That's a new one.

"By talking to her."

"Okay, alright. Give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?" Stiles pushed. I turned my head to stare at Derek. Now _this_ was something I wanted to see. But with my luck and Derek's "humor" all I got was dead silence.

Granted, his face was still distracting.

"Dead silence; that should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"

"I'm thinking about punching you in the face," Derek quipped. I snorted unattractively and leaned back in my seat. Don't wanna get caught up in the crossfire. But then again, would getting punched in the face by Derek be such a bad thing? "I'm also thinking you two are gonna have to split up."

"Are you crazy?" I exclaimed, sitting back up to face him. " Haven't you ever seen Scooby-Doo? Or any zombie movie ever, Miguel?"

"Oh god, you got her started," Stiles grumbled, face palming into his steering wheel.

"Seriously, Miguel you're trying to get us all killed. That's like the number one rule in horror movies! Oh my, god have you even _seen_ a movie?"

"_Yes_," he snapped, sending me that stupid brooding, annoyed look.

I didn't believe that for a damn second.

"If he's already turned, then maybe you can calm him down long enough for me to get back there," he explained. "Now go before I get this done myself."

I scoffed one last time and crawled out on Stiles' side of the car. "I bet he's never seen Scooby-Doo," he said knowingly. Derek huffed as he entered through the front of the station while Stiles and I entered through the side. I paused to see Derek's ingenious plan to "distract her."

Omg, Miguel's teeth are like perfect little pieces of Orbit and now I _really _want me some Orbit.

A tug on my arm brought me back to earth. Stiles and I nodded once at each other before splitting up and headed down opposite ways to two different hallways. I jogged to the room where the holding cell was to already find it empty and the door pried open.

Well, shit. How am I supposed to explain to Miguel that I lost his werewolf? Oh, yeah I'll just blame the simple logic of splitting up.

Suddenly, the door swung open and an officer limped in along with a struggling Stiles whom was shoved on the floor. The two looked at the holding cell door and then finally took notice of me. I shrugged and opened my mouth to say something, but I'm sure I resembled a fish.

Stiles gave me a look before not-so-subtly gesturing to the imposing officer. "Oh, is he...? Crap," I stuttered, finally noticing the syringe filled with wolfsbane. "Shit," I mumbled, no longer gaping at the hunter but now at Isaac who appeared from god knows where.

With a simple swipe of his arm, he sent the hunter flying to the concrete wall, effectively knocking him unconscious. Isaac turned to me and snarled. Despite the fact that knocked some dude out without thinking and was now zeroing in on Stiles and I, he was still that same kid who traded Pokémon cards and laughed when I couldn't pronounce them.

I still hadn't moved from my spot because I was too busy staring at his yellow, glowing eyes. Isaac began to slacken in his stance a little, but I felt what I assume is Stiles pull at my wrist to pull me behind and hidden from further view.

I'm not sure what part him thinks a desk is gonna protect us from a raging werewolf, but whatever part that is, is a part we need to get checked out.

A crunch from the now smashed syringe and a loud, long growl from Derek got everyone's attention.

Seriously, Miguel. You're paying my ear doctor from now on.

"How'd you that?" Stiles asked once Isaac was calm and slowly turning back into his human form.

With a glowing red eyes, Derek turned and smirked. "I'm the Alpha."

Talk about dramatics.

Isaac silently stood from his cowering position against the wall. I glanced up at him and quickly broke the eye contact.

Believe me when I tell you that seeing one of your childhood friend try to maim and kill you changes things a smidge.

But I should know better considering one of my best friends used to have the same issue. And now he uses his girlfriend werewolf hunter as an anchor, but that's neither here nor there.

In another blink Derek and Isaac were gone, leaving Stiles and I along with an incapacitated "officer" with us. "Now what?" Stiles asked wryly. I let out a sigh and stood up. "We go home," I answered simply. He grabbed my out stretched hand and easily hoisted himself up.

"I wonder where he got that uniform from..." He said thoughtfully as he stared at him. Suddenly the alarm stopped and Sheriff Stilinski and a few other officers filed in.

"Oh, uh, he did it."

Yeah, you can guess how well that held over.

* * *

"You know, just when I think your dad's lectures can't get any longer, they do," I said thoughtfully. I swear Sheriff Stilinski holds a world record for the longest lecture.

"Please, that was one of his shorter ones," Stiles scoffed as he turned down my road. "What do think you think your chances are of leaving the house ever again?"

"Negative to like…double negative," I mumbled.

"Which makes a positive," Stiles finished with a grin.

"Are you forgetting my dad's a security officer? He'll make his business to keep me at home. I'll be surprised if I can make it school tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah," he pouted as we pulled into my empty driveway. "Where's your creepy brother?"

"Shut up," I scolded. "And I don't know," I frowned, checking my phone for the first time that night. "Out with a friend, don't wait up," I read monotonously. Way to be vague, bro. I turned from my phone screen when I heard a camera shutter and a flash that followed. "What're you doing?"

"Cherishing the moment since I won't ever see you again," Stiles answered simply. I sent him an unimpressed look (which I'm sure I picked up from Derek).

"Goodnight," I nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait," he gasped, grabbing my hoodie. "Did you read the messages from Scott and Allison?"

"No, I just assumed they were fighting again. I'll read them later," I promised before turning to leave again. "No, wait," he gasped again, pulling at my hoodie.

"You're gonna stretch this out, Stilinski."

"Sorry, bad habit, I guess," he apologized sheepishly before letting go. "He said he and Allison saw something."

Okay, did everyone get bit by the vague-bug tonight, or what?

I lifted an eyebrow to tell Stiles to continue. "They think it's the same lizard thing that killed Isaac's dad because it showed up while they were at Isaac's place tonight."

"Oh," I said, leaning back into my seat. "So, do you think this _thing _is tied to Isaac somehow?" Stiles shrugged, tapping his fingers nervously on his steering wheel. "Don't worry about it though."

I scoffed before opening my door and hopping out. "Easier said than done, dude."

"I know," he nodded. "I'll see you." I waved once as he started his Jeep back up and backed up out of my driveway. I walked up to my front door, but stopped once I realized I didn't grab my keys when I left. Plus there was goo all over the door knob. Frowning, I went to go climb the tree and into my cracked window and in my room. Instantly, I passed out on my bed. Fully clothed and all.

* * *

**Go ham in the review box, maybe?**


	3. Ice Pick Part 1

**Hola, my silent, wonderful readers! Here lies another chapter and don't be afraid to tell me what you think because I wrote, and re-wrote this chapter like a 1,000 times no joke.**

* * *

Needless to say, I ended up grounded. Stiles had come up with a decent cover story, but nothing could really justify the fact we broke into the police station and a person of interest was now missing. In my defense, I had nothing to do with that last bit. I blame Miguel and his perfect Orbit gum teeth.

Unfortunately, Matt was taking advantage of my current stated of being grounded by taking our car for the night. Now here I was stuck walking to the food mart because I didn't have enough money for pizza, but I had more than enough for donuts and Peace Tea. Plus it was only a skip and hop from my house.

I slowly roamed the aisles as bobbed my head to the music I'd plugged in my ears for the walk up here. They really should make more flavors of donuts rather than powered and chocolate. C'mon donut manufactures, the world is your playground.

I sighed sadly as I decided on a bag of mini powdered donuts. Just as I reached for the bag, the lights went out. I took out both earphones and turned off my music and realized I was the only one in the store. "Seriously?" I whispered to myself. I really hope they just forgot to pay the light bill.

I walked to the entrance of the store to see someone standing and looking around just as dazed and confused as I was. I stepped outside and realized it was Allison. "Allison!" I called out as I began to walk over.

"Charlie, hey," she said nervously, still glancing around. "Any idea what's going on?"

I shook my head silently and turned my back to her. "I was just in there grabbing some stuff and then it went all 30 Days of Night on me," I frowned.

"Yeah, I was pumping gas and this guy starts staring at m-" she began, but was suddenly cut off. I whipped around to see Allison being shoved in an SUV with a bag over her head. I gaped silently and dropped the bag of forgotten donuts on the ground. I fumbled through my pockets to find my phone to call Scott only to be stopped when someone snatched my phone away.

"No," was all they said before tossing it into the road behind them. "You saw nothing," he declared, shoving something in my hand. It took me a minute to realize it was Chris Argent as he walked away and drove away in Allison's car. The two vehicles skidded away and my phone was left in pieces in the middle of the road. I saw that he had shoved two $100 bills in my hand.

"Okay, just what the fuck was that?"

* * *

"Hey, Stiles," I greeted as I walked up to his locker. He looked away from where he was stuffing his books from his last class into his locker and glared at me. "What's your deal?"

He ignored me and straightened his back and attempted to shut his locker, but was unsuccessful due to the plethora of loose papers and binders that were unorganized inside. I lifted an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look. He huffed and began stuffing it all back into his locker before attempting to shut again, but once again he was losing the battle. I softly shoved him aside and began moving his junk around to make it semi-presentable. Clearly, he wasn't talking to me, but I know he's gonna cave.

It's me were talking about.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him rock back and forth on his feet as the internal struggle became real. A few moments later I shut his locker with a soft click and sent a smirk at the taller boy. "Ugh, okay. Fine, you win, Daehler."

I nodded once. "That's what I thought. Now what's your deal?" I asked again as we headed to the gym for P.E.

"You tell me. You're the one who's been ignoring me," he accused. I frowned before remembering that my phone had been run over. Not once, but twice.

"I dropped my phone in the tub," I lied smoothly. Stiles had stopped in the hall completely to eye me from head to toe. "What?"

"You still take baths?"

"I don't tell you how to live your life," I snapped.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, brushing it off. "You can make it up to me though."

"How?"

"I have an idea," he began. I struggled to keep the apprehensive look off of my face. "Don't give me that look." Well, I tried.

"Sorry," I said, putting on my poker face. P-p-p-poker face. Shit, now Lady Gaga is gonna be stuck in my head for the rest of the day.

"You know Boyd, right?"

"Yeah, he's in my Geometry class. Quiet kid, has his own lunch table."

Stiles nodded quickly as we rounded the corner. "Yeah, that's him. I convinced him to let me, you, Scott, Allison, and Lydia to borrow the keys to the rink."

"For what?"

"So we can all get in our bathing suits and slip and slide all over the place," he deadpanned. "What do mean for what? We're going ice-skating."

"Pass," I sighed, ignoring his sarcastic jab. "I don't wanna fifth wheel."

"But I need you in case I strike out."

"You mean _when _you strike out," I snidely correctly.

"C'mon, Daehler," he groaned.

"Look, just do what the movies say and be yourself and all that crap."

"Have you-have you met me, Charlie? This is Lydia. The Lydia Martin we're talking about."

"Then refer to your ten year plan, okay? You'll be fine," I assured. He let out a long, dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "Fine, but now you _really_ owe me."

"Put it on my tab, Stilinksi."

* * *

I finished tying my Nike's and stood up from the bench in the girl's locker room. Walking out to the court, I craned my neck along with the rest of the class to stare at the rock wall that we were all required to climb today.

Eh, I guess it's better than climbing a rope. How are you supposed to get any leverage on that thing anyways?

"Hey," Allison said, coming up behind me. "So, about last night..."

Oh god, this sounds like the beginning of a morning-after conversation.

"You didn't tell anyone did you?" She asked, pointedly looking at Stiles who was not so subtly staring at Lydia. "I don't want anyone to know that my training is starting," she added in a low whisper. I lifted an eyebrow thoughtfully when I realized she had no idea what happen after she was taken.

"Even if I wanted to, I can't."

Allison frowned and started shaking her head. "What are you..."

"Your dad paid me 200 bucks to not say anything and then ran over my phone...twice," I added grudgingly.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

"It's cool, I guess. It's not really your fault," I shrugged. "Now I can I buy a new phone."

"Oh, hey. Did Stiles invite you out to go ice skating with us? Lydia's coming over after school so we can get ready if you wanna join us."

"Argent, McCall! You guys are up!" Coach Finstock yelled out. I walked over with Allison as she began fiddling with the straps to harness herself in.

"I'm gonna sit that one out. I don't wanna third wheel or anything," I said. I glanced over at Scott who was unsuccessfully trying to strap himself in. I softly patted his hands away and began tightening the correct straps.

"You'll still come over though, right?" Allison asked lowly. I keep forgetting these two are supposed to be keeping a low profile ever since the "break up." I thought the two kids were doing a decent job, until they looked at each other because that's when the eye sex commenced. "Lydia's been a little…off ever since they found her in the woods."

I finished up Scott's harness and tugged at the rope to make sure it was in place. "Promise no spontaneous kidnappings or destruction of phones?"

"What?" Scott asked, eyeing me suspiciously. Crap, I forgot we kept him in the dark.

"Inside joke," Allison piped up, brushing it off with a chuckle. I nodded for reassurance.

"Daehler!"

God, he's becoming worse than Harris.

"Do you have an inside voice, coach?" I asked with an annoyed look on my face.

"Get over here!" I'll take that as a no.

I sighed loudly and left from my spot in-between the love birds. "Since you're so handy with those harnesses, you're in charge for making sure those are on correctly for each student."

"Do I have to climb the wall?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"If someone gets injured."

"Deal."

Ugh, forever gagging at the sickeningly sweet pair that is known as Scallison. I spotted Stiles laughing at my pain so to speak and glared at him. I paused my glaring when I heard the cord descending and looked up to see Scott falling.

Okay, him getting injured doesn't really count.

"McCall, I don't know why, but your pain gives me a special kind of joy."

How did Coach Finstock even get this job?

Erica and Stiles were up next. I finished and double checked the harness on the both of them and handed the safety lines to the next pair who were up next.

"Hey, Stiles," I said grinning. "What's up?" I asked cheesily, gesturing to the wall he was about to climb.

"Zero out ten. Try again, Daehler."

Screw you, everyone loves a good pun.

I picked at my nails when Erica and Stiles began climbing the wall. Personally, the most I knew about Erica was that her last name is Reyes and she's epileptic. Other than that, we never really exchanged words unless it was about classwork she missed if she were in the hospital.

I heard Stiles land next to me, but only looked up when I heard Erica's labored breathing.

"Erica?" I called out. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied shakily. I bit my lip to suppress the nerves that were surely coming. Ignoring the comments coming from behind me, I went over to take the safety line.

"Erica, just come down. I've got you," I stated. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I had her. I blame my noodle arms. But eventually she trusted my noodle arms and began to ease herself down until her feet were planted on the ground.

* * *

I was about to change back into my school clothes when all the girls began filing out of the locker room. Not wanting to be flattened like a pancake, I brought up the rear. I peered over Coach Finstock's shoulder to see what all the commotion was about. I gaped silently when I saw Erica seizing.

"How'd you know?"

"I just felt it," Scott responded, holding Erica's hand as she convulsed.

"Daehler! Call an ambulance. No one was supposed to get injured," he added in a low voice.

"It's not my fault she got moxie and decided to cone back out without any supervision. You didn't even know she was epileptic."

Coach Finstock blinked in thought before asking, "The hell is a moxie?"

"Seriously, how did you even get a job here?"

Needless to say, that landed me in detention during lunch.

* * *

After inflating basketballs for detention, I had 20 minutes to spare and decided to stop by the hospital to drop off Erica's school clothes. Going from sweaty gym clothes to a scratchy hospital gown and back to said sweaty clothes isn't ideal for anyone.

"Hey, Brenda," I greeted, walking up to the first nurse's station I saw. Brenda smiled, but quickly dropped her smile when she saw it was me. "It's Mrs. Howard to you, Charlotte."

"Right, sorry," I chuckled, already knowing what she wanted to be called by me. "Can you tell me where Erica Reyes' room is?"

She eyed me slowly and glanced down at a piece of paper. "2nd floor, room 212."

"Cool, thanks."

"And stay away from the ice machine!" She yelled after me. Yeah, there's a reason she hates me and I can guarantee you that that incident with ice machine had _nothing_ to do with me. But Brenda thinks the opposite.

And she's totally right.

I made my way toward the elevator but then decided to take the stairs. Less people and there's no corny music.

Slinging Erica's bag over my shoulder, I threw the door open and began walking up the first set of stairs but stopped to glance up when I heard another person coming down.

Miguel?

We had a silent stare off until we both opened our mouths. "What are you doing here?" We asked at the same time.

"Well?" He asked impatiently after a short pause.

"I asked first." Bullshit.

He rolled his eyes and closed the gap between us and flared his nostrils. "Why do you smell like Erica?"

I eyed him silently with narrowed, suspicious eyes before answering. "How do you know Erica?" He simply lifted an eyebrow in response. The two of us kept eye contact as he made his way down the stairs and out the door.

My guess is that he's hanging around at our school. Creepy, but this is Derek we're talking about.

* * *

After I got back to school (late, thanks to Miguel), I left the office with my tardy slip when I spotted Jackson rounding the corner. I saw where he was heading and went the opposite way to intercept him.

"Hey," I said as he came around the corner. Jackson jumped when he heard my voice and almost ran me over. "What do you want, Marley?"

"It's Charl-"

"Again," he huffed. "What do you want?"

Great, he was in one of _those_ moods. Not much different from his usual mood, he was just a bit more cranky. Like a toddler.

"You recall making a sex tape with my brother's camera, right?"

"It wasn't a sex tape," he defended with a low voice.

"And my name isn't, Marley," I shot back.

He sighed and check to see of the hall was still empty. "What's your point?"

"Fix it."

"And if I don't?" He asked rhetorically.

I stood up straighter in false confidence because the next line out of my mouth was going to be a complete lie. "I know, Jackson."

"What do you know, Marley? You're just here to fight your brother's battles."

"I know a lot more than you think I do," I claimed. I don't know shit. "Pay for the lens," I declared, walking away.

"Wait!" He called out, grabbing me by my upper arm and pulling me closer to him. "How much did Derek tell you?"

Queue record scratch.

Pulling myself out of his grasp, I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "You know what? It doesn't even matter, just send me a bill," he concluded. Jackson started walking away, but turned around to add one more comment. "And tell McCall that Isaac isn't our problem, it's Derek's."

I'm more confused now than I am in Geometry, and I haven't even _been_ there yet.

* * *

Allison, Lydia, and I were in Allison's room studying. Or in my case, staring at the same page reading the same paragraph over and over again. I was having trouble concentrating because I was pretty sure the Derek had given Erica the bite. And then there was Jackson acting like someone stole his puppy and kicked it around. My theory was that Derek was making reinforcements in the form of troubled teens. I guess it explains him creeping around the school.

Lydia brought me out of my thoughts when she asked a question about the homework I was positive she already finished. "You can cut the act Lydia, it's just us," I mumbled, chewing at the end of my pencil. She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off when Mr. Argent walked in the room.

Oh god.

I shoved my Geometry book in face in an attempt to "study."

Ha, as if I'm intrigued my shapes with numbers all over them.

I ignored Allison and her dad's back and forth banter until he suggested that Alison should keep an eye on the both of us. I almost scoffed, but began scribbling in my notebook to keep the illusion. I glanced over at Lydia who was listening to music, or seemingly so. Who the hell knows?

After Mr. Argent left, I put the book down and shut it.

"Daddy's little girl?"

"Not tonight," Allison responded with a smirk. She disappeared out the window until she came back into view when she landed gracefully on the ground.

"I'm gonna take the stairs," Lydia quipped. She looked at me expectantly and pointed to the window. In response, I shook my head silently. "Shut it." She shut the window silently and grabbed her bag. I followed her out of Allison's room and down the stairs. Hopefully, we wouldn't run into Mr. Argent, because the last thing I needed was another confrontation with him.

"I'll see you guys later," I said whenever Lydia hopped in Allison's car.

"You're walking home?" Allison asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I assured. Plus, what would I see that I hadn't seen before? "I'll text you when I'm there."

"Great," Lydia piped up from the front seat. "Call me whenever you're ready for your makeover."

"I never asked for one."

"I know," she stated, eyeing me from head to toe. I pursed my lips to keep the offended look off of my face and glanced over at Allison who was sending me an apologetic smile. "Have fun," I urged. I stood back from Allison's car and began to head down the street while they drove off in the opposite direction.

Even though I was grounded, I decided to take my precious time to get home. Dad wasn't there anyways. Thank god for the night shift.

I kicked a few rocks as I went along the road. Normally I would listen to my music to drown out the sounds of the night, but my phone was currently indisposed thanks to Mr. Argent and his flair for dramatics.

I heard some rustling in the woods and quickly crossed the road to…more woods. I could take a short cut through the woods, but everyone's been sort of finicky lately because of that thing that killed Isaac's dad.

I heard more rustling, but this time closer to me. I stopped in my tracks to make sure I wasn't just making up the sounds in my head.

Oh god, I hope I'm not going crazy. Even though those padded rooms look pretty comfy.

"Hasn't anyone told you not to walk around at night?" A voice announced from behind me. I jumped with a start to see the silhouette of a tall, curly headed boy. "You're smarter than that. You know it's dangerous out here day or night."

I squinted in thought until I finally figured out who it was. "Isaac?"

"I've always thought you needed glasses," he mused, walking up to me. "Turns out I was right."

My mind was reeling with questions before I concluded to one. "Where've you been?" Isaac looked away from me and took in his surroundings. "Around," he shrugged.

Oh, look who else was bitten by the vague-bug.

"Let me walk you home," he insisted, looking back down at me. I nodded silently and stuffed my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket. We stepped off and began heading in the direction of my house.

"So, you decided to skip out on ice-skating tonight?" Isaac asked after a few minutes of silence.

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked over at him. "You were spying on me?" A guilty look came across his face, but it instantaneously disappeared and was replaced with a smirk. "Maybe."

"Cut the shit, Isaac," I snapped. "You're still the kid that wet the bed at sleepovers." I heard him scoff when he skidded to a stop. "That was one time and you _swore_ you would never mention it again."

"Sorry."

No, I'm not.

It's been a few days since I had seen or spoken to Isaac and the fact he went incognito without telling anyone was a pretty crappy thing for him to do. And here he was getting mad at _me_. He's just lucky that I have a huge soft spot for him.

He easily caught up with me and matched my pace. "Me too." I lifted an eyebrow to tell him to continue. "It wasn't really my choice to disappear like that, but you know the deal with the whole I-killed-my dad thing."

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"I know, but Derek says I should lay low until the police figure that out."

"From one ex-fugitive to the next," I murmured under my breath. I heard Isaac chuckle as my house came into view.

Oh, yeah. Werewolf hearing.

"So, when were you planning on telling me about your new werewolfdom?

"I guess whenever I got a grip. I didn't know you were so caught up or else I would've mentioned it sooner," he shrugged. "How long have you known about this stuff anyways?"

"Long enough."

"Clearly, since you're walking around alone at night."

"I'm a big girl, Isaac," I sighed, walking into my driveway. "I can protect myself."

"I know, I know." After a beat of silence, I decided to ask him the question I'd been dying to know. "Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Take the bite?" I clarified. Isaac looked thoughtful for a brief moment before a spacey yet concentrated look came across his face. "What?"

"Matt. There's something up with your brother," he frowned. "Like he's having a panic attack or something."

With Isaac's last words, I fumbled to get my keys out my pocket and into the bolt lock on the front door. I swung the door open once it was unlocked and headed straight up the stairs with Isaac right on my heels. "Matt!" I called out as calm as I could under the circumstances. I knocked on his door and waited for response. When no answer came, I turned to Isaac who simply nodded. I opened the door and went to Matt's bed where he sitting up and sweating bullets. It was clear that he was having trouble breathing so I went to his dresser where he kept his inhaler. I shot my head toward Isaac. "Can you get me a towel, please?"

Shaking the inhaler thoroughly, I sped back over to his bed side and sat on my knees as Isaac returned with a small dry towel. "Okay, Matty. Remember just take a puff every 5 seconds and deep breaths in-between. Ready?" Matt nodded quickly and silently before taking the inhaler and popping the cover off. I held his free hand and used the towel to blot the sweat off his face and neck. "Okay, deep breaths. 1, 2, 3, 4, puff, 6, 7, 8, 9, puff, 11, 12, 13, 14, puff," I finished. Matt had calmed down a considerable amount and was now attempting to regulate his breathing.

"Better?" I asked once his breathing became more shallow and even. He nodded once again before answering. "Much."

"Good," I said with a stoic expression. I let go of his hand and stood up to toss the now damp towel in his hamper. "I'm probably just gonna stay up for a while so don't worry about checking up on me," he stated, turning on his T.V. I noticed his hands were shaking whenever he hid them under his comforter. Isaac moved from in front of his television and sent me a what-the-hell expression. I bit my lip and shrugged.

"Uh, okay. Your inhaler is on your nightstand if you start fee-"

"I got it," he snapped, flipping through the channels. I blinked and silently left the room with Isaac trailing behind me. We made to my room where I began rummaging through my drawers for something to wear to bed.

"Well…" Isaac began. "That was intense."

"You're telling me," I sighed before taking my shorts and one of Stiles lacrosse shirts. I only stole it whenever he threw it in my face for making fun of his ridiculous "gaming face."

Hey, he who tossed it, lost it.

"I'll be back," I announced, walking to my door to go change in the hall bathroom. "No snooping since you like to spy nowadays."

"Scout's honor," he swore with a smirk. I quickly went to go change and threw my hair in a pony tail to keep it off the back of my neck.

I began biting the inside of my cheek as I tossed my clothes in the hamper. It had been a while since Matt had an asthma attack. Funnily enough, he only had them at night or in the wee hours of the morning. I always thought they took a lot out of him just for an asthma attack. Scott was usually fine after he had one (before his entry into werewolfdom), but Matt's were...different.

Turning out the light, I left the bathroom and back to my bedroom where Isaac was flipping through my school notebooks.

"I kinda miss school," he chuckled, tossing my notes aside.

"Even Harris?"

"Even Harris," he clarified. I walked over to my bed and slid under the covers and leaned against the headboard while Isaac sat on the edge facing me.

"Never thought I'd hear anyone say that," I quipped, letting out a yawn.

"I should probably head back to Derek..."

"You never answered my question," I reminded. "Why'd you take the bite?" Isaac looked away to stare at the carpet in thought.

My carpet isn't that interesting, man.

"Well," he began, licking his lips. "I guess you could say it started with my dad."

As Isaac told his story, I sat Indian style and placed my elbows comfortably on my knees. I felt my eyes beginning to sting when he explained the abuse he was receiving from his father.

Even though it had nothing to do with me, I still felt guilty for not saying anything.

"Jackson knew," he said after a beat of silence.

"Do you resent him for it?"

"Not really. It wasn't his problem, you know?"

"What if I told you that maybe I kinda had the idea that he was hitting you?" I asked slowly.

"What I told you that maybe I kinda had the idea that I knew that you knew?" I frowned in response. "You're smart, Charlie. I knew it'd be a matter of time before you figured it out."

"And you don't hate me?"

"Last time I checked, no." I let out a short laugh and brought my attention to my comforter.

"I kinda hate me," I admitted lowly. Isaac checked my clock on my nightstand and stood up to remove his shoes and coat. "Your dad is working late tonight, right?" I nodded silently and watched as he climbed into my bed and made himself comfortable. "Shouldn't you head back to Derek's?

"I would, but there's a legal curfew." What a lame excuse. But hey, I get to sleep with something that's not a bottle of Listerine. "Plus he'll be fine."

"Does he even sleep?"

Isaac mused silently before answering slowly. "I have no idea." A small chuckle left my lips as I let out another yawn.

"By the way," he began softly. "I could never hate you."

* * *

**Aaaaand that's the end of Ice Pick part 1! It's actually one of my least favorite episodes, but so much was going on that I decided to just chop it half. So, tell me what you guys think in the review box, please c:**


	4. Ice Pick Part 2

**Does anyone actually read these? Maybe in the first chapter, but after that I'm sure it's just second nature to skip it because I babble a bit. Anyways, there's an important author's note at the bottom and it'd be awesome if you guys read and responded to it.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The next morning I felt someone shake my shoulder in an attempt to wake up. I groggily turned my body so I wasn't facing the curtain which was nonetheless, open. Suddenly, I felt cool air as a result of my bedding being pulled off of me.

Okay, either this person is really keen to see my bed head, or they really want me to go to school.

I eventually pulled myself up and looked around my room for my harasser only to find it empty. My guess was Isaac or the ghost of my old phone. I stumbled out of my room and went to Matt's, already knowing he was in the shower. I stole his phone to send Stiles a quick text asking (more like telling) him to pick me up this morning since Matt and I were in that weird post-asthma attack mood.

I quickly got showered and dressed and even had a little time to clean up the mess I left while getting ready. I would say Isaac is a good alarm clock, but because of him, I'm picking up my bedding off the floor.

I heard honking and saw the Jeep with Scott waiting outside on the passenger's side.

"Learn something, kid," my dad advised as I went out the front door.

Words of wisdom, right?

Scott opened the door so I could take the hump. Walking past him, I felt his eyes follow me as I slung my back pack in the back and adjusted myself between the two boys. "What?"

"You smell familiar," he commented, flaring his nostrils a bit. "Like fugitive familiar."

Stiles looked over at the two of us with a confused expression etched on his face. "What are you talking about?"

Scott sent me that stupid, I-know-why-you're-squirming smug look. "Quit it, Scott. You're freaking me out," I defended poorly.

"Okay whatever," Stiles huffed, starting the car and putting it in gear. "You two weirdos can keep talking in code while Stiles chauffeurs and continues to be left out of the loop."

"You're referring to yourself in third person and we're the weirdos?" Scott asked rhetorically.

"By default, yes."

* * *

The bell rang to dismiss class for lunch. Thank god, because I was close to actually dying from boredom in geometry.

I walked with haste to get to my locker while the insane lunch rush started. Shutting my locker, I jumped with a start to see a smirking Erica standing behind the door. "Jumpy, aren't we?" She chimed, examining her nails.

I took a moment to take her in. She was wearing a short, tight leather skirt, a white shirt and-oh no, a leather jacket.

She has to be in Miguel's pack.

"I saw you at the hospital yesterday," she began thoughtfully. "But I just couldn't figure out why you were there considering we've only talked about chemical equations and quadratic formulas."

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously and glanced around for any indication of Scott or Stiles. "Yeah," I chuckled. "I was dropping off your clothes. I figured you didn't wanna hang around in a gown or sweaty gym clothes. But clearly that ship has sailed."

"You figured right," she agreed, taking a step toward me. I lifted an eyebrow skeptically and glanced around to see if anyone was watching us. Thankfully the halls were empty thank to today's tater tots. "But now I'm feeling _much better_," she drawled.

Okay, she definitely got the bite.

Wanting to find Scott to relay the news, I pointed toward the general direction of the cafeteria. "I was heading to lunch."

"I'll walk you. Plus I wanna turn a couple of heads," she added, walking ahead of me. My eyes found their way to her leather skirt and I found myself scoffing. "Yeah, you'll definitely turn a few heads," I murmured under my breath.

"I know," she called out, throwing open the cafeteria doors. The gush of wind blew her hair back perfectly. Meanwhile, I was tugging strands out of my face.

Why do I feel like this is all happening in slow motion? Oh, yeah because she taking her sweet time. I can't even get to my normal table because she keeps getting in my way.

Great, now she wants to eat an apple. We don't have time for you to boost your immune system. Keep it moving.

"Bye," she smirked. I waved halfheartedly and began heading to my table.

"Let's go," Stiles announced before I even got a foot away from the space I was just trapped in. Scott wasn't too far ahead of him.

Ugh, I just want tots, man.

I grabbed the apple Erica had bitten and shrugged at the poor guy in response. By the time I had caught up with Stiles and Scott, Derek's Camaro was driving away.

"What do you guys think?"

"This apple is way bruised, no wonder she left it," I quipped through a small mouthful.

Stiles turned to frown at me. "Did you even see her?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, taking another bite. "She looks good,"

"Good? Out of all the adjectives you could've used, you go with good?" He asked, mocking me poorly.

"I'm hungry, give me a break, Stilnski."

"How did you even see her? You got to lunch late."

"Are you kidding me? I was right behind her," I defended, tossing the soft apple away. Stiles looked thoughtful for a moment as he mused. "Hm, at least you weren't blocking the view."

"You suck."

"Guys, can we focus for a second?" Scott asked. Stiles and I turned our attention to him as we stopped in the almost empty hallway. "Okay so, Derek is clearly up to something."

"Reinforcements."

"Reinforcements?"

I nodded before continuing. "Remember that night he made you watch the omega get cut in half?"

"Yeah," he flinched.

"There ya go. Plus with that thing with the tail on the loose, he needs all the help he can get since you refuse to join his pack."

"I guess that makes sense," Scott said thoughtfully.

Stiles adjusted his book bag on his shoulder. "Yeah, but why Erica?"

"Who knows," I shrugged. "I'm gonna go raid the vending machines because I'm sure all the tots are gone. See ya guys."

* * *

Remember the days where you could walk (slide across your hardwood floor with socks) around your own house without worrying about ADHD dorks intruding? Yeah, me too.

I didn't even bother to pause the music playing from my iHome when I spotted Stiles taking off his shoes and kicking them aside. "How did you get in my house?"

"I had a key made," Stiles stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I swear this boy doesn't even know what the word boundaries mean.

"Don't look at me like that. You're the one leaving your keys everywhere," he accused. I suddenly got a whiff of something seriously smelly and by the looks of it, it was definitely Stiles.

"State your business, Stilinski."

"Erica definitely got the bite."

"What makes you think that?" I asked, wafting the smell away from me. "And why do you smell worse than Greenburg after lacrosse practice?"

"She threw me in a dumpster."

"You think Erica got the bite because she threw you in a dumpster..?" I asked skeptically. He nodded dramatically as if that explained it all. "Why? You have any other theories?"

"Whenever I went to take her clothes to the hospital, I ran into Derek who asked me why 'I smelled like Erica,'" I mocked in my best Miguel voice.

"He knows her? How did he even _find_ her? Did he say anything else? You think he bit her at the hospital?" He asked frantically. He only paused because I sent him a stoic expression. "What?"

"I was waiting for the questions to stop," I replied, lifting an eyebrow. "Apparently. He's a creep. No, he just got really quiet and left. And definitely considering Erica wasn't in her room when I finally got there."

"Are you serious? How come you didn't say anything?"

"I didn't think it was relevant until now," I shrugged sheepishly.

"Well, it's pretty freaking relevant now if you ask me!"

I huffed and looked up at my ceiling. "Look, man, did you come here to stink up place while you yell at me or what?"

"Or what," he quipped. With that, I turned to go trudge back to the kitchen to finish on my homework. If Stiles can't tell me why he's here, then he might as well be helpful when it comes to my homework. Assuming that he followed me because of the smell which makes me wonder how long he was in the dumpster. "How did she end up throwing you in a dumpster anyways?" I asked, turning off my music.

"She knocked me out," he shrugged. He brought his hand up to his head and began lightly rubbing the spot. I winced and went to freezer to grab something frozen for his head. Due to the lack of ice packs in this house, I've learned broccoli works pretty well.

"Here," I offered, handing him the bag.

He eyed the back skeptically, but smirked and took it anyways. "Broccoli?"

"It's good for other stuff than insane amounts of vitamin C," I smiled, leaning on the kitchen island to finish where I left off on my homework.

"Wasn't that due yesterday?"

"Yeah, but I told Harris I was having lady issues again and he gave me an extension," I answered distractedly. "It makes me wonder if he knows how long an actual period lasts."

"Ew," Stiles frowned, adjusting the bag. I rolled my eyes shortly. I heard another person enter the room and assumed it was Matt since Dad was gone until early tomorrow morning and Isaac wasn't going to show his face anytime soon. "Hey, Matt," I greeted, still enthralled by my work.

"Hey, Scott," Stiles said pointedly. I whipped my head toward Stiles and then to where Scott supposedly was. "How'd _you_ get in here?"

Scoot pointed up to the general direction of my room. "Window." In response, I mouthed the word 'Oh' silently. I don't even know why ask anymore at this point. "It stinks in here," Scott commented.

"Erica," was all Stiles had said. Scott looked to me to explain further. "I'll tell you later," I waved off. "What's up?"

Scott walked over to the island and began rhythmically tapping his fingertips on the granite counter. "Deaton knows."

"Knows what?" Stiles asked.

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"Meaning like every single thing?"

"Yes, Stiles everything."

"Even—"

"Okay, I think we get it. Deaton knows everything. He's god, okay?" I concluded. "What's your point?"

"He knows a _lot._ More than Derek maybe, but now I feel like he's another person I have to protect."

"Of course he is," Stiles agreed. "Otherwise he would have ended up being Alpha food that night we ended up trapped in the school."

"He's right. Even though you can't protect everyone, you have to try. At least until this thing with a tail is gone," I finished with a nod. I tried to focus back on my homework until Scott spoke up. "One more thing, I can smell Isaac's scent in your room."

"You're hanging out with fugitive werewolves now?"

"So?" I asked, ignoring Stiles' jab.

"Why?"

"Because we're friends."

"Well, he can't hang around here. Or around you really."

"Why?" I asked slowly. I already have Matt and my dad telling what I can and can't do and now there's someone else trying to do the same.

"Because he's dangerous."

"You were once just like him," I accused, getting frustrated.

"Yeah, but I have an anchor, but he could kill you."

"He won't."

"He could," Stiles added from behind me. I turned around to glare at him because he wasn't helping my case in any way. "Holding cell," he pointed out.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to Scott. "He wasn't gonna do anything."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"Charlie, you even said it yourself that I can't protect everyone!" He argued.

"I know, Scott," I mocked. "You can't be everywhere at once and with that _thing_ on the loose at least Isaac can be around when you're not."

"And you don't think that's dangerous?"

"Oh, like it's so safe for you to be dating a werewolf hunter in training? Secretly on top of that. If her family finds out you're both dead," I argued.

"Guys—" I threw up my finger to silence Stiles and was surprised when it worked.

"That's different."

"How?"

"Because—"

"You're a hypocrite?"

"No," Scott huffed. He blinked and stared down at the tops of his shoes to calm down. "Just promise me you won't see him."

Well, shit. I forgot how hard it is to say no to those stupid big, brown eyes.

"Fine," I mumbled, looking away from him before I promise anything else. "But I can't help if he follows me anywhere when I'm alone."

"I guess that's fair," Scott said. "In a creepy, stalker kinda way."

"There it is," Stiles began. "Your heroism. Are you sure you don't wanna try making out? Just a kiss maybe?"

"Shut up."

* * *

**Aaand there ya have it! Part 2 of Ice-Pick. I already have Abomination written, I just need a little motivation (reviews~) to post it! Also I know it's kinda early for this, but who would you guys prefer to see Charlie with? So leave review letting me know what you think :)**


	5. Abomination Part 1

That same night, Scott had excused himself to go meet up with Allison in the woods. Poor kids. I can't imagine how hard it is to hook up in the woods. Or hook up at all for that matter. Meh, they'll be fine. I only think that because I'm still kinda peeved at Scott. "Oh, yeah. I meant to tell you that I can't pick you up tomorrow," Stiles relayed.

"Erica?"

"Erica," he nodded.

"That's sad," I commented sadly. Stiles nodded in agreement and stuffed the thawed broccoli in the freezer. "It would actually be awesome if you drove me the mechanics to pick up my jeep. You know, since you owe me and all."

"For what?" I asked. "Oh, yeah. The ice rink. Fine, let me go find shoes," I huffed, shutting my book.

"And throw on some pants, it's cool out!" Stiles added as I disappeared up the stairs. I rolled my eyes and called back, "Yes, dad!"

I slid on some sweatpants over my track shorts and grabbed a cardigan that was hanging on my desk chair. I poked my head in Matt's room to tell him that I was heading out to the mechanic's shop with Stiles and would be back soon. He quickly exited out of something and turned around to meet my confused face. "Okay, that's cool."

"I wasn't really asking for your approval, but okay," I drawled out slowly. My guess was porn or he was still on that Jackson and sex tape thing. So I guess technically it was still porn.

I made my way back down stairs and grabbed the set of keys of the key rack. "Let's go."

* * *

"Oh my, god, do you know what a speed limit is," Stiles squealed, leveraging himself with the dashboard.

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen," I replied shortly.

"I'm not," he defended. "How is that you haven't gotten a ticket yet?" I shrugged silently and sped up to get through a green light which earned another 'oh my god' from Stiles.

"Dude, chill."

"I am chill. Just stay in your lane," he said in a strained voice.

"Just stop talking and we'll get there in one piece," I stated with finality. Stiles crossed his arms and huffed with a pout on his face. Baby. My driving is flawless. Except for that one time I hit the stop sign, but that's neither here nor there. I slowed down to a mere 25 miles per hour so the boy's anxiety levels wouldn't go through the roof any more than they already were. "Better?"

"Yes," he sighed. "But now were here so doesn't even matter."

I swear this is the last time I drive around Stiles Stilinski.

We finally went inside the tire shop where Stiles' Jeep was jacked in the air. "Stay here," he ordered.

Psh, yeah okay.

"Uh, no. This place screams Texas Chainsaw Massacre and I refuse to let us be dismembered."

"This is California."

"You know from experience that it's not a good idea for us to split up."

"Fine. Just don't say anything," he mumbled, holding the door open for me. I silently saluted and scanned the facility.

"Hey!" Stiles yelled. With no response, he yelled again only to be ignored again.

I don't blame him for ignoring him either. Especially since I had to listen to it all the way here. As Stiles and the mechanic were talking, I thought I saw something move in the corner of the poorly lit room. Seriously though, the cute mechanic should invest in some more lighting.

Okay, now I'm pretty sure I'm hearing things that literally go bump in the night.

I hustled back over to Stiles who looked defeated. "You might as well head out," he murmured, swinging the door open for me. I ducked under his arm and waited for him to join me in the waiting room. "Quality establishment you're running here!" He yelled sarcastically. I rolled my eyes at his sudden impatience and animosity toward the mechanic. "Dude, what is your problem?"

Stiles huffed shortly before answering. "I only needed a starter and now I'm pretty sure he's throwing together words to keep me here longer."

"So, you're annoyed that he's helping you out?" I asked rhetorically as he pulled out his phone.

"No, well yeah, but not-"

"You were saying?" I asked with a smirk when he paused completely. Stiles stayed silent and frozen until he dropped his phone and made no immediate move to pick it up. "Stiles, you okay?"

He shook his head softly and gulped. "Something's wrong. I can't move or feel my hands and now my legs are starting to tingle," he added, slightly terrified.

Shit, this has to have something to do with the shadow I saw earlier. See? I knew I wasn't crazy. Crap, I need to focus.

I squatted to pick Stiles' phone to call Scott. "No, no, no, no, no don't touch that!" Stiles whispered-yelled. "Whatever crap was on the handle is on my phone too."

I frowned at him and looked over to at the door handle which was nonetheless covered in something slimy and now dripping.

Gross.

To get the mechanics attention, I began rapidly tapping on the glass, but he was incognito. Surely, he was there a second ago. I heard something thump to the ground and saw that it was Stiles who had a pained look on his face. "Call my dad."

"With whose phone?" I asked desperately.

"Where's yours?" He asked in the same tone.

"In pieces thanks to Chris Argent."

"I thought you dropped it in the bathtub."

"Details, details." With my last quip, I straightened my legs out when I heard a loud slashing noise. Whatever was keeping Stiles Jeep up was now slowly lowering to the ground and on top of...shit, the mechanic.

"Char, get down," Stiles warned in a strained voice from the ground. Something kept me from looking away. The lift suddenly stop and it became eerily silent. I pulled my cardigan sleeve down to cover my hand and reached for the handle. Only I was stopped when something (a snake thing maybe?) came from out from no where and let out a screech. Stiles and I let out simultaneous gasps. Whatever screamed in my face disappeared into a corner. I slid down the wall I had backed into and had yet to remove my eyes that were still glued to the mechanic calling for help. "Stiles," I whispered. "What is that thing?"

"Just don't look, Charles. Look at me. Hey," he called. I tore my eyes away and turned to look at him. "We're gonna be fine, okay?" I nodded silently and crawled over to him. I swung my arm over his shoulder and got into a squatting position.

Shit, I need to work out.

Since standing the both of us up didn't work, I pulled us until our backs hit the wall and let Stiles half sit, half lay against me and the wall. Unfortunately, we were in perfect view of the poor mechanic. "Stiles, I gotta do something."

"If you go out there, we're both dead, Charlotte."

* * *

Once the cops finally arrived, Stiles had recovered and we had worked on our cover story. I let Stiles do all the talking at this point while I kept glancing over at the dead mechanic which was now being covered with a sheet.

"Charlotte."

Whatever gunk was on the handle, I had to get rid of before the Sheriff got here.

"Charlotte."

I swear removing some paralytic crap off of a handle without getting it on you is a special skill. Yep, that's going on my college applications under special skills.

"Charlie," Stiles called, nudging me softly which successfully brought me out of my thoughts. I tore my eyes away from the scene and looked over at the Stilinski's. "Sorry," I quietly said. The Sheriff made a gesture for Stiles and I to follow him out of the tire shop and to an ambulance where Stiles and I took a seat. "It's fine. We just need a statement of what happened," Sheriff explained.

I stuffed my hands in my cardigan pockets and glanced over at Stiles who nodded at me. "We got here and he was under the jeep," I stated quietly. Sheriff Stilinski looked at me expectantly as if to go in. I rocked back and forth on my heels silently and looked away from his intimidating gaze. "Thank you, Charlotte," he nodded, clearing his throat. "And you two are sure you didn't see anything else?"

"Positive."

"Yes."

Sheriff Stilinski sent us another look before turning to Stiles. "Now Stiles, we have to impound your jeep as evidence. Sorry, kid," he concluded before walking away. Stiles scoffed but nonetheless accepted his car-less fate. "Just make sure they wash before they give it back!"

Ew, I can't (well, I can 'cause I'm looking right at it) how gross that's gonna be.

Eventually Scott came to pick Stiles and I up because someway somehow, Stiles convinced the Sheriff I wasn't fit to drive due to the circumstances. I knew a part of him was right, but I also knew he didn't wanna endure my flawless driving for another night. As Scott and Stiles were talking in the front seat, I occupied the back seat silently as I played with the ends of my hair distractedly. "Right, Charlie?" Stiles asked suddenly.

"Right," I answered monotonously. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stiles turn around to look at me. "You're not even listening."

"Sorry," I apologized, meeting his eyes. He looked at me for a second and then to Scott. "I was saying whatever that thing was looked familiar, right? But just the eyes."

"Yeah," I agreed, looking at Scott through his rear-view mirror. "It was kinda like seeing one of your friends in a Halloween masks or maybe a distance cousin you haven't seen in years. You recognize them, but you have no idea who they are."

"So, you know who that was?" Scott asked.

"No, but it knew us."

* * *

_Beep! Beep! Bee-_

Well, this a first.

I, Charlotte Louise Daehler, have woken up before my alarm clock. It's a miracle, ladies and gents. Although, given the circumstances, I wouldn't call this a win. Last night I had a whopping...twenty-two minutes of sleep. I blame that thing with a tail. Those eyes, man. They looked eerily familiar. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I've definitely seen them before. Maybe they weren't the same shade of creepy, but nonetheless familiar.

I tossed my bedding off of me and headed to the hall bathroom knowing it was going to take a little extra time to conceal my tiredness. Beating Matt to the shower, I quickly got ready and paid extra attention to the bags that were slowly but surely forming under my eyes. After trekking back to my room, I threw on some black jeans and a vintage Spider-Man t-shirt. After last night, I think it's safe to say that I can bum it out a little. Sliding on my Converse's, I tossed my back pack over my shoulder and headed downstairs where I saw my dad munching on toast.

"Hey, kid," he greeted. "Want some toast?"

"Why not?" I shrugged. "Matt came in late last night so there's no telling how long he's gonna take."

"Speaking of your brother, do you think he's been acting a bit strange lately?"

"You mean stranger than usual?"

"You know what I mean, Charlotte." I sighed and nodded in agreement before I took a bite of toast. "Any idea why?"

Good question. Honestly, I hadn't really sat down and hung out with the kid in a while. Especially with his recent asthma attack. I shook my head no and took another bite of toast. "You think maybe it has something to do with your mom?"

Now that got my attention.

"You think this is about mom?" I asked, putting down my half eaten toast. Ever since she left a few years ago (3 years and 258 days to be exact), my dad has mentioned it twice. The first time was the day she left and he asked have Matt or I had seen her. Eventually, he had put the pieces of the puzzle together when he read the letter she left for him.

The second time, he was drunk out of his ass. Ironically, that was the reason why she left him.

After she left, he quit drinking (or tried to) and got himself together. Around that time, Matt's asthma got worse and I had no choice but to step up. Eventually we all fell into a pattern where everyone pretty much did their own thing. Once the divorce papers were signed, we all felt a custody battle wasn't necessary. Matt and I didn't wanna be separated and we didn't wanna live with someone who abandoned us. Simple as that.

"I don't know. Could be a girl we don't about," he shrugged, avoiding eye contact with me. Great, now he's deflecting.

"Dad..."

"Can you talk to him?'

"Sure," I began, gathering my stuff and heading out the door. "I'll do your job for you." After shutting (slamming) the door behind me, I trudged up to our car with my lips unintentionally pursed. Matt looked amused as he settled in. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"Your dad," I grumbled, crossing my arms. He started the car and gently corrected me. "Our dad."

"I demand a paternity test."

"Okay. Seriously, what's wrong?"

I uncrossed my arms and looked toward him. "I should be asking you that."

"Why?" Matt frowned as he peered at the rear-view mirror. "Can I get over?"

"Because you've been acting like a weirdo lately." I stretched my neck to see if there were any cars in his blind-spot. "You're good."

Matt huffed and sent me an offended look. "I have not and I don't think I should trust your judgment of what you think is weird and if I'm really good to switch lanes."

Now it was my turn to send him an agitated look. "Rude. I'm just saying you've been a little jumpy. Like you're walking around with a secret or something."

"Truth hurts, sis," he shrugged, now switching lanes cautiously. "And besides I'm not jumpy just...nervous. You know for the game tonight."

"Right," I nodded. "I'd be nervous too if I knew I had to warm a bench while taking pictures all night. _Real_ hardship."

"Okay, you can walk."

"Whatever, truth hurts."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "So, what was the deal with you and dad this morning?"

"He thought you were acting weird because of mom and when I asked him to elaborate, he waved it off and made me talk you about it instead."

"Oh, so that's three?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "Sorta. It didn't last very long so I really wouldn't count it of he didn't say mom."

We pulled into the parking lot and searched for an open spot near the lacrosse field. "Just tell dad that it's a girl, but don't go into detail."

"No," I stated. "I'm so tired of playing messenger. You're a big boy, Matt." He rolled his eyes before shifting the car into park and shutting it off. "I know, but just tell him that and I'll take care of the rest."

"Yeah, fine, whatever," I reluctantly agreed. I checked my make-up in the vanity mirror one last time before getting out.

"Thanks," he smiled. "Plus there's sorta kinda maybe a girl."

I frowned as we made our way toward campus. "What the hell? Is she like half robot?"

"No," he scoffed. "You know her."

I sucked in some air through my teeth as I racked my brain. "I don't think I know any half-robot, half-girls, man."

"Charlie!" Someone called, interrupting our conversation. I whipped my head toward the source and saw it was Allison with Lydia trailing behind her. As the four of us came together, we came to a stop at the main steps. "Hi," she greeted quietly, looking past me. It took me a second to realize she was saying hi to Matt who was smiling back and blushing slightly.

Wait.

It's Allison.

I sent Matt a smug smirk to let him know I figured it out who in return, glared at me.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Allison asked, breaking Matt and I's silent conversation.

"Sure," I agreed. Matt took the hint and disappeared up the stairs. Lydia simply walked away and waited while examining her pink gloves. Once she was out of hearing range, Allison began telling me about Gerard and his leather-bound book. "Do you think it means anything? I mean, he said he would be lost without it."

I bit my lip in thought before answering. "Yeah, but we have no idea where it is now."

"I have an idea where I think it might be, but I wanted to let you guys know first."

"He's going to the lacrosse game tonight, right?" The bell rang as Allison silently nodded as an answer. "Okay, I'll tell Scott and we'll figure something out later."

"Thanks, Charlie," she thanked with a smile.

"You're welcome," I said distractedly. "By the way, who's Lydia talking to?" I asked as I saw her talking to herself alone, but she was staring up at someone as if she were talking to someone.

"Lydia!" Allison called. Lydia jumped a bit and looked in our direction. "Who are you talking to?" Lydia looked back at the space she was conversing with and looked slightly put out when she didn't see him.

"No one. Let's go before we're late," she answered quickly. She brushed past Allison and I and up the stairs. Allison and I exchanged looks of confusion and followed her up the stairs and into school.

That was weird.

* * *

"And make sure to tell him how sorry I am again," Allison concluded. Knowing me, I began batting my eyes to get rid of the glaze that was sure to be on them. Since Scallison are dating in secret, they also argue in secret. Meaning Stiles and I are stuck relaying messages between the two if them.

I still have no idea what the hell 'because I love you' means.

The first bell rang and Allison summed up what she's already been preaching to Scott. I love you, I'm sorry and all that lovey dovey crap. After she bid me goodbye, I made it my business to find Scott and relay Allison's message. Mostly because I didn't feel like heading to class right away. Or at all for that matter.

Once I found them, Stiles looked put out, but I wasn't here to listen to him complain about the same I was going through. I let out an annoyed sigh and stared up at the ceiling. I stood in front of them while they continued to sit and stare on the stairs. "Allison says-"

"No, don't say it like that. Say it like her," Scott interrupted, standing up. I looked down from the ceiling and at Stiles who looked just as annoyed as I did. I took Scott's hands (which were oddly clammy) and took a deep breath."Scott," I began, taking an elongated pause. "I can't do this."

"She said that?" He yelled, turning a few heads. I tore my hands away from his. "No. _I_ can't do this. I'm with Stiles on this. You and Allison have to find a better way to communicate."

"C'mon guys, I already told you that you guys are the only guys we can trust," Scott complained, fidgeting a bit.

"Stop saying guys," I frowned.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Now what'd she say?"

I huffed, but relayed everything that needed to be told. I started with this morning and ended with Allison and I's recent encounter.

"Like a bestiary," Stiles piped from his spot on the stairs.

"A what?" Scott asked with a smirk.

"A bestiary."

"I think you mean bestiality," he corrected with a grin.

"I'm pretty sure I know what I meant."

"I don't know," I smirked, looking at Scoot. "It does sorta sound like..."

"Okay, no. Just go find Allison and tell her. In fact, we'll both go," Stiles concluded, standing up and grabbing my hand. I turned to wave at Scott who was still smiling when he returned the wave.

* * *

Once we found Allison in the quad where she was studying, Stiles began explaining all the stuff about the bestiary. "I think you mean-"

"No, I mean bestiary! And the three of you, I don't wanna know what's going on in your heads!" Stiles stressed, fidgeting a bit. I let out a small laugh while setting my stuff down next to Allison. I pulled out my Geometery book and notes in an attempt to cram for the test later that day. Meanwhile, Stiles was briefing Allison.

"What would it look like?"

"I don't know. Old, worn..." Stiles listed.

"Bound in leather?" Allison asked, turning around to face me. "You remember what we were talking about this morning?"

"Yeah, totally," I nodded, biting the end of my pencil. "You think that's it?"

"Maybe," she shrugged, she turned back around to face Stiles. "Can you go ask Scott?"

Stiles mumbled something under his breath, but left anyways. "You coming. Char?"

"Pass," I called out, not looking up from my notes.

After passing Stiles back and forth, the three of us finally formed a plan. I had finished cramming to the best of my ability and put together Stiles a cardio workout plan. The kid definitely needs it.

* * *

You know what I hate (there's actually a really long list, but that's not the point)? When you're minding your own business and someone just decides to literally pull you into their conversation.

After Matt removed his hand from around my upper arm, I took the time to glare at him. The boy knows how I don't like to pulled outta my thoughts unless it's something Nick Jonas related. "Marley, did you mess with this?" I broke my glare away from Matt to furrow my eyebrows at Jackson. He was holding the camera that was used to make his sex tape. I looked at the screen where I saw him just lying there like he was asleep. I saw the date in the corner and then the sex tape thing suddenly made sense. He wanted to see himself change into his werewolf form. Oh, Jackson. This is better than the sex tape scandal. "Hello?" I heard Danny call. He comically waved his hand in from of my face which I softly swatted away.

"Oh, no," I stuttered, pulling myself together. "I didn't touch it. Matt freaked out and wouldn't even let me loo-"

"Okay, were done. Thanks. Go sit," Matt rambled, placing his hands on my shoulders and pushing me toward the bleachers. "Weirdo," I mumbled under my breath. I spotted Allison (well, I saw her hair before anything) sitting with Gerard and decided to take the opportunity to move our plan along. Allison was already two steps ahead of me and scooted closer to Gerard and patted the empty space next to her when she spotted me in the thinning crowd.

"Charlie!" I whipped my head toward the source of the voice already knowing who was calling me name. Stiles mouthed to me "You good?" I nodded silently and held up an okay sign. I winked at him for good luck regardless of the fact that he probably won't need it.

Through out the game, Stiles kept looking back to check and see if Allison acquired the keys so we could go search Gerard's office. So far, the only thing I was concerned about was the huge guy on the opponent's lacrosse team.

Seriously, what were they feeding this kid?

"I knew I should have brought a warmer jacket," Allison said, rubbing her arms. Gerard had offered his jacket and passed it on to Allison whether or not she wanted. Subtly, she dug around for the keys and I couldn't keep the small smirk on my face once she handed them off to me. I cleared my throat before standing up and excusing myself. "I gotta pee."

Smooth, Daehler. Smooth.

I stuffed the keys in my other pocket before I carefully made my way down the bleachers. The last thing I needed was to fall down a set of bleachers filled with people. Stiles had already disappeared and was waiting on the side of the bleachers once I had made my way down. "Here," I said, handing the keys off. He took them and we headed off with a sprint toward the school.

Remember when I mentioned the cardio workout for Stiles? Yeah, I'm taking that back and using it for myself.

I almost ran him over when he came to a rough stop in the parking lot. "What are you doing?"

He sighed and pointed silently to the car where Lydia was crying in. Instantly, I threw my head back in frustration. "C'mon, Charlie. It's Lydia Martin," he argued.

"You do realize that's not a valid excuse for everything?"

"Please?" He whined.

I puffed out cheeks and let a whoosh of air out through my mouth. "Fine, take care of your business." We didn't have time for a full scale argument anyways. Stiles gave me a quick hug and pushed me in the general direction of the school. Ugh, rude.

I'm already hating this plan. First, we have to go in school after hours. Dude, I don't even like being here during the _school_ hours. Second, we (before Stiles ditched me) have to look for something that's probably locked up in center of hell (this is Gerard we're talking about, c'mon). And the icing on the cake? Stiles had to console Lydia and here I am standing in an abandoned hallway realizing he still had the keys. "Shit," I whispered, shaking the locked door.

I looked around as if that would give me the answer or better yet, the key, but with such luck on my side, I was met with Derek who had suddenly appeared down the hall. "Boo," he deadpanned. I frowned at his stoic expression and began backing up to go recon with Stiles. "Shouldn't you be-"

"Don't even start with me, Derek. You're in a high school you graduated from years ago. After hours on top of that. Shouldn't you be-"

"I'm really surprised your mouth hasn't gotten you in trouble yet," he interrupted, taking a few steps toward me. As a reaction, I took a few back and glanced over to see the pool and a smirking Erica standing silently.

"Haven't heard that one before," I replied lamely. Oh god, my hands are starting to get all clammy.

"Charlie! You in here?"

Word of advice? Never send a Stiles to do anything that requires sneaking and staying quiet. "Shu-ow!" I saw Derek nod at Erica who grabbed me by my underarm and led (dragged) me into the pool area.

Oh ew, the smell of a chlorine and pee-ridden pool.

Stiles joined me shortly after and looked surprised to see me. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Derek loudly popping a basketball.

"Are you serious? I spent like an hour of detention blowing those things up, man." In response, Derek simply grabbed another basketball and popped it. "You suck, man." Stiles nudged and shushed me shortly after. Really? The one who came looking for me by yelling my name is shushing me.

You suck too, Stiles.

"What did you two see last night?" Derek asked again. I looked to Stiles who looked at me who then looked at Erica who was staring at me. I shrugged at the same time Stiles piped, "I don't know."

Derek gave the two of us a look and stepped forward. "Okay, okay," Stiles shuddered. Gah, he's such a wimp sometimes. "Um, yellow eyes, slits maybe. It had scaly skin, kinda slimy. Oh! And a tail," he listed. I nodded as he described the thing. As Stiles kept going, Erica and Derek were looking up and past us. I followed their line of vision until I saw what they were seeing. That _thing_. "You guys have this look on your face like you know exactly what I'm talking about."

The next chain of events happened in a blink, so all I remember is Erica getting thrown and some way Derek and Stiles ended up in the pool. I, on the other hand, was on the other side far, far away from Stiles' phone and the thing that was stalking us. It ran off after it stuck it's hand (no, _claw_) in the water. Okay, so it's afraid of water. That makes two of us. It's totally not my fault my parents never taught me how to swim.

"Charlie!" Stiles called out.

"Yeah?"

"Do you see it anywhere?"

"No," I answered looking around.

"Maybe it took off." With that, I started my way back over toward a floating Derek and Stiles. I froze when I heard the thing with a tail screech in the distance. "Maybe it didn't," Derek quipped. Once I made my way back over to Stiles and Derek, I went to grab Stiles' phone, but was stopped when I heard a hiss from behind me.

"Jump," Stiles whispered-yelled.

It can hear you, man.

"I can't swim!"

"What do you mean you can't swim?"

"I don't know how to be more clear than that, Stiles!"

"Just jump and kick. You'll be fine, I swear."

"Says the guy who's holding up a paralyzed werewolf while staying a float."

After a few moments, the thing started pacing behind me and I had yet to turn around. I reached down to grab Stiles' phone again, but was met with another hiss. "What's it waiting for?" Derek asked aloud. I shrugged and licked my lips. Not wanting to make any sudden movements, I slowly turned around to see what this thing was waiting for.

"Just jump, we know it's afraid of water."

"No, you idiot. If she jumps, she'll drown."

Between the thing pacing a wide circle around me and Stiles and Derek arguing about me to jump, I was having a hard time focusing on anything. The most I knew how to do in water how to do was flail and there was no way I'm taller than 8 feet, but I also don't wanna die. Especially by something that recently crushed it's last victim to death.

"Jump!"

Crap.

I quickly grabbed Stiles' phone and tossed it to him which he caught with both hands, leaving Derek defenseless and sinking. The thing was now heading toward me and I only had one option left. With a deep breath, I took the last few steps and jumped in head first.

Fact: people who can't swim shouldn't ever attempt to dive. Ever.

I decided to try something I've seen people do dozens of times in movies; swim. I opened my eyes and saw nothing but blurred legs and a blurred Miguel at the bottom of the pool. I heard Stiles yelling, but I couldn't make out what he was saying.

Ten bucks that it's impromptu swimming lessons.

Shutting my eyes, I began moving my arms toward the surface of the pool, but was utterly confused when I was met with concrete rather the surface. Trying to keep my cool, I pulled an 180 and began moving toward the surface a second time. Turns out, my swimming is equal to sinking. As my lungs began to burn, I began flailing as a last resort. Unfortunately, my right leg began cramping and my body stiffened. The air left in lungs wasn't enough to bring me to the surface and I began sinking again.

If you think it's impossible to cry under water, think again.

I opened my eyes to figure out where I was which was pretty much futile at this point. I blinked trying to rid the black spots that were plaguing my vision as I clumsily tried to stretch out my leg. Between the growing black spots, my cramping leg, and now the feeling that my head was about to explode, I involuntarily opened my mouth to take a breath and let in a large amount of water.

Crap, now I'm really screwed.

* * *

**Aaand that's the end of Abomination part one! Review, please?**


	6. Abomination Part 2

**This chapter was a little harder to write because of the recent episode of Glee, but I got it done anyways. So, here's the second installment of Abomination and I hope you guys enjoy it! Also thanks for all the wonderful reviews, they were all flawless and made me feel _tons_ better! Especially the cheese slipping off the cracker one, I've never heard the expression before and I'm totally storing that on away for future use~**

* * *

Dying feels...weird, for a lack of a better word. Not a bad weird (well, the first part was), but an okay weird. I'll give it a seven out of ten. The bright side of it was that the burning in my lungs had ceased as well as the insane, splitting headache. The downside was that it was dark. And wet. Wasn't there supposed to be a light or something? I can't even remember what my last words were. I do know it wasn't anything cool like, "Hey, toss me that knife!" or "I drank what?"

Anyways, the best part about all of this? It was incredibly peaceful. I could breath. There was no burning, crying, useless coughing, failing, cramping, and most importantly; I didn't have lungs filled with water. In fact, I was breathing just fine. A little too fine.

"C'mon, Charlie..." Someone said.

Okay, so I'm not alone in this damp, dark afterlife. My chest felt like someone was beating it repeatedly. Which was weird because I was fine a second ago. "C'mon, Charlie," I heard Stiles mumble.

Wait, so Stiles is dead too? Bummer. Poor Sheriff Stilinski.

"I can hear her heart beating," Derek said. Okay, if Miguel is here, then I'm definitely not dead because no matter how many times you kill Miguel, he comes back. He's like a cat with nine lives. Or more probably.

Suddenly the beating on my chest had stopped. My body jerked and the next thing I knew I was awake and on my side coughing up water. The chlorine was fresh in my nose and burned badly. Okay, I'm 100% sure students use the pool for peeing.

"Ew," I croaked. I took a deep breath, only to cough up more water. I felt a hand on my back to help guide me in a sitting position. I took in my surroundings after my coughing fit was over. Derek and Erica had disappeared and Scott and Stiles were both at my side.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked. I shook my head silently as I tried to regulate my breathing. It felt like I just ran a marathon and I definitely came in last place.

"Hey!" Someone yelled. Everyone turn in sync to the source of the voice to see who was yelling. "I said hey!"

Geez. This dude didn't even give us a chance to respond the first time. "McCall, Stilinski! What do guys think you're doing?"

_Oh._ It was Matt. And he was peeved.

Stiles stood up to meet Matt who was storming over toward Scott and I. Scott stayed behind to help me up. Matt brushed past Stiles without missing a beat. "What the hell happened?" He asked again. I, on the other hand, was too focused on breathing and not coughing up anymore water. Unfortunately, another coughing fit was making an appearance which only upset Matt more. He walked over and wrapped an arm protectively around my shoulder which cause Scott to back off.

"Well..." Stiles began, looking at Scott. He fidgeted a bit only to be cut off by a seething Matt.

"Which one of you pushed her in? You told them you can't swim, right?" He added to me quietly. Without waiting for my response, he continued with his tangent. "Was it you, Stilinski? Dude, she can't swim!"

"Clearly," Stiles blurted. "It was an accident. We were just goofing around a-and she-"

"How long was she under there?"

"Not even two minutes," Scott answered, taking a step closer to us. Matt's grip tightened around me in response.

"How would you know, McCall? Were you even paying attention. Or were on the phone with your little girlfriend," he mocked bitterly.

Scott put both his hands up defensively. "I-"

"Save it. It doesn't even matter because what's done is done and now you idiots know better," he concluded. "We're leaving," he concluded with finality. Normally, I would've defended Scott and Stiles to the end of the earth and back, but I just nearly drowned and was still soaking wet. This was definitely the first and last time Matt plays protective older (by two and half minutes) brother.

The ride home was filled with rant after rant about Stiles, Scott, and how I needed to be more careful. Honestly, he wasn't me telling anything I already knew. Once we reached home, we both noticed that our dad's car was there. "You're not gonna tell are you?" I croaked, breaking the silence.

Matt placed a hand to his temple and continued staring through the windshield. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because the guys would be in so much troub-"

"Charlotte, you've gotta stop defending them. You could have died tonight because of those idiots."

"Those _idiots_ saved my life for your information."

"Fine, whatever. I won't tell and it's your stupid decision to not tell anyone either," he huffed. "As long as you're not hanging around them anymore."

"Matt, you're not the boss of me."

"I don't have to be to tell dad."

I scoffed weakly. "Why are you so keen to tell?"

"Because the same thi-. I don't want you to-. Forget it," he finished, getting out of the car. I watched him with utter confusion on my face as he stomped away like he practically had a tantrum. I followed after him, listening to my shoes make a squish noise as I took timid steps. I managed to sneak in behind Matt despite his lame attempts to keep quiet. As soon as I got to my room without getting in trouble, I picked out some sweatpants and another stolen lacrosse shirt. I took a quiet, quick shower and decided to nature do its job with my hair. Tiptoeing back to my room was ten times easier without the squeaky shoes.

"Hey," Isaac greeted, making me jump on the spot. "Heard what happened. You feeling okay?"

"Did you hear how psycho Matt went too?" I asked rhetorically, ignoring his question. I angrily tossed my clothes into my hamper and plopped myself next to Isaac who was sitting at the head board of my bed. "Nah, Derek didn't mention it."

"Whatever," I sighed. "Where've you been, anyways?"

"Around," he shrugged. Ugh, I guess we're doing the vague, cocky thing again.

"Still a fugitive I see."

"That and Derek has been kicking my ass during training, but at least he knows what that thing is called."

"Is it called something as extraordinarily ordinary as a lizard?"

"No," he laughed. "It's called a Kanima, and apparently all the information about is in the bestiary."

I let out a small giggle at the word before I left my face fall. "So, who found it?"

Isaac shrugged again. "Derek just said that Stiles has the flash drive it's on and it's in some weird language no one can read."

_Oh_. The flash drive on Gerard's keys. I guess that makes more sense than a book as old as Gerard himself. I scooted my butt until it reached my headboard so I was next to Isaac. "What else happened?"

"He also said he doesn't trust you," Isaac added quietly. I'm not surprised Miguel the sassy werewolf doesn't trust me, but I just wanna know why. "Why?"

"Because the Kanima never attacked you."

"Is he insane? I nearly drowned tonight because it was about to."

"Key word being about," he mocked in a deep voice trying to imitate Derek's. "He thinks if it was gonna attack you, it should have by now."

I pursed my lips in thought and pulled my knees to my chest. Isaac silently played with a loose string on my pillow case. "Oh my god, he's not kill gonna me is he?" I asked with wide eyes. Isaac's eyes widened to the size of saucers and ditched the pillow he was holding.

"No, no," he denied. "He's not killing anything until they find out more information, but even then I wouldn't let him."

I blushed lightly before letting out a dry laugh. "Didn't you just mention something about Derek kicking your ass on a daily basis?" I asked rhetorically. The situation in its entirety doesn't bother me because hey, who walks around pumping the life back into people they don't trust? Miguel.

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Maybe." After a silent pause, Isaac turned to me with a serious expression. "Seriously, Charlie, you _have_ to be more careful."

I looked away from his intense gaze and sat up to cross my legs Indian style. "I will, I will."

"Promise me, because this Kanima thing is bigger, stronger, and faster than _all_ of us," he stressed. "On top of that, Derek's planning something and you don't wanna get caught up in the crossfire. Again," he added as an afterthought. I nodded silently until he looked away from me. "It's just...I already buried my brother and my dad..."

I swallowed thickly and held out my pinky for him to take. "I promise."

Isaac looked confused for a split second until he linked his pinky with mine. I doubt he would ever break my pinky if I broke my promise, but that didn't make it any less true.

"Thank you," he whispered, glancing down at my lips. I nodded silently again and began leaning toward him with a bundle of nerves sitting in my stomach. He started to close the small gap between us until he froze with a frown on his face.

Crap, I've should've dug out the Listerine.

"Someone's coming," Isaac whispered.

Maybe it's Matt bringing me mouthwash.

"Who is it?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, still listening.

"Well c'mon, Nancy Drew. You don't recognize their heartbeat or anything?"

"I know it's not your brother or Scott..." He trailed off. Slowly, our faces morphed into the same expression.

"Your dad."

"My dad."

Isaac shuffled quietly to my door. "I'll see you at school tomorrow," he mumbled before placing a quick kiss on my cheek and disappearing down the hall to Matt's room. I grinned to myself as I settled into bed to give the illusion that I was sleeping soundly. I heard the door open and shut, assuming it was my dad checking on me. "Char, cut the crap. I know you don't smile in your sleep," someone quipped after they shut my door.

I opened one eye to see Stiles standing in the middle of my room with his hands stuffed in his pockets. I silently untangled myself out of bed to look out my window only to see no signs of Stiles' jeep. "How did you..?"

"I parked a couple blocks away," he explained, pointing in the general direction of his vehicle. "I just wanted to see if you were okay and apologize for everything."

I shrugged and sat up on the edge of my bed. "It's cool. I got some free lip action from Miguel so I'd say it was prett-"

"What?"

"What, what?"

"Derek didn't give you mouth to mouth, I did."

Oh. I guess that made more sense since my chest felt like someone was beating it before the pool water made an appearance on the floor when I woke up. "Well, you give really good mouth to mouth action."

Talk about word vomit, man. I didn't even bother trying to redeem myself from that one because there was just no going back. Especially with that smug look on Stiles' face. I'm pretty sure I inflated his ego to the size of Jupiter.

"Listen, I'm really tired so I'm gonna try to get some sleep." Stiles didn't say anything, but instead kept giving me that look on his face. "Didn't you come over here to apologize or something?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, dropping his smug facade. "Uh, sorry. I didn't think you were just gonna..." He trailed off to gesture his hand sinking dramatically. I lifted an eyebrow silently as his poor rendition of me nearly drowning. Three out of ten, bro. "Hey, now I know what to get you for your birthday this year!" He added hopefully.

"I think my chances of getting in another body of water have reduced to nothing so don't bother."

Stiles slumped at my negative response and sat next to me on my bed. He played with his hands and took a deep breath through his nose. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged after a dramatic pause. "I don't know what to tell you," I began sadly. "Accidents happen. I mean, how else did you get here?"

Now it was my turn to smirk because the look on Stiles face was absolutely priceless. "You...suck," he finished lamely.

"Mhm," I mumbled. "But seriously don't beat yourself up."

"Thanks," he said while sending me a small smile. I stood up and stood in front of him. I opened my arms and waited for him to comply. I wasn't a big hugger, but Stiles actually gives really good hugs if he's not squeezing the life out of you because he thinks it's funny. He complied by wrapping his arms around my waist and squeezing lightly. "I'll apologize to your brother tomorrow," he piped up.

I pulled away from him to give him a surprise look. "Really? That's mature of you."

"I know. Unlike you, who flaunts stolen merchandise in people's faces," he stressed eyeing my shirt. I frowned and looked down to examine my (definitely Stiles') shirt.

"He who tossed it lost it, Stilinski," I said knowingly.

"That's not a real expression!"

"Tell that to your missing shirts."

* * *

**And that's the end of Abomination! Review, please?**


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